A Saturday Tale
by NewJesus
Summary: "Why did dad put on a dress?" Is a simple question with a long answer


"But why did he do it mom?"

She did not need to specify what she was talking about, Pyrrha already knew who was on her mind. She locked her emerald eyes with her own, and regarded her with such a solemn and curios expression, as only a child deeply lost in concern could do.

They were sitting at the kitchen table, going through her own very first math homework. The excitement for starting at a real school and getting real homework was quickly replaced with boredom, as she made the age-old discovery that math was just as much a pain in the butt as it always has been. Even when mommy says she can have an ice cream, if she answers all the problems on the first page.

The rules for adding and subtracting soon faded into the background, as it would when something far more concerning still lay unaddressed, and in need of an urgent explanation. Pyrrha could easily understand. She could only imagine how confusing it must have been for a five year old girl to wake up on a Saturday morning and see her father cooking breakfast while wearing a dress.

As if there had not been any other way for the ass to earn his redemption, than alarming the kids and frightening the neighbours.

"Because your father thought it would cheer me up."

"But why would dad think dressing up as a woman would cheer you up?"

Why would it? Why did it?… Did it? There were things that had made such an impression on her that she thought they would stay with her forever. Now they only seemed to allude, appearing as flashes, dreams, emotions?

Pyrrha's eyes shifted from the books to the window. Outside, white clouds hung in the air, with only small gasps in their formation, allowing sunlight to pass through. The day could really have been used for better things than homework. Then the sky started to disappear from her mind, it became black while the temperature seemed to rise to irritatingly humid.

The hallowed ballroom at beacon had been filled with couples, dance, laughter, music. Noises and colours had merged together in that maelstrom they all moved in, and the impression had only left her blurred. She had tried to find peace along the sides, amongst those who were chatting and drinking. Some had invited her, nameless faces whose features had been almost impossible to differentiate in the semi-darkness. Some had blond hair and sly smiles, others had brown hair and wide grins. Even some girls with long hair and complacent smirks had seen an opportunity they did not want to miss. Those dark petty eyes that saw her as a price. A champion, a model, a trophy, something worth bragging about. She ignored them. She had concentrated her energy on finding a pair of blue eyes amidst the revolving stream. When she finally saw him coming alone, the place had suddenly felt overcrowded, and she needed air. Apparently he had noticed, for he had found her on the balcony minutes later, and in a second of desperation she had confessed. Not really the truth as it had been, but she had wanted him to understand so badly.

She remember she had retreated back down. She had wandered aimlessly around for some time before she heard the laughter. When she discovered the source, she had been unable to contain herself, erupting into guffaw. The dress, the shoes and his adorable dorky smile. The last event of that night she could still recall clearly was the dance, everything after was just a tender feeling of bliss.

"He did it once before, a long time ago. Back when mommy and daddy still went to Beacon we made a silly deal, and he cheered me up a lot by honouring his part."

"Was that back then when you fell in love with each other?"

When she fell in love?

Even today she could still remember when she first saw him. His scraggly build had set him apart from just about anybody else in the room, but she would still admit she had found his blue eyes and messy blond hair kind of cute. He had come alone, with only a hopelessly outdated sword to defend himself, and had she not been there to petty him, thinks might have turned out rather differently.

It had soon become clear to her that his skillset was far below anybody else, but she could help him, and why not? Apart from him behaving like a ten year old when she came around with the offer. But then he apologised and she forgave him. It was a virtue she soon realised was necessary to possess in their relationship, for times again he would fail and she would have to forgive. But then he would improve. Perhaps that gave her the patience. She would never have to forgive him for the same mistake twice.

He started to fight better, he started to do better. His humour returned, his spirit regained and his body started… changing. As their training went on and shared moments of uninterrupted silence became more frequent, she had found herself unable to deny the growing warmth that heated her skin when they got close.

"It was back then when we started to fell in love."

"And then you got together, and then you married, and had a happy ending. Like dad always says, right?"

Right-

At the time she had considered it a wonder when he finally managed to gather his courage to invite her on study dates, then coffee dates, and finally movie dates. But she knew now that the real miracle came afterward, as that bud of hormonal teenage love managed to blossom in the chaotic universe of their high school life. It matured trough four years at Beacon, it survived the trials of the battlefield, it exploded on long wedding nights and grew trough childbirth and childbirths.

He had changed from being insecure and meek to someone that was both steadfast and courageous, while not having abandoned the qualities he had brought with him to Beacon. With his compassionate nature and strong build he had developed into something she would at times call a man.

Pyrrha started to stroke her daughter's free flowing hair. Soon it would probably grow into the same red mane that had been one of her trademark, throughout her own school days. It was a relief that children would rarely try to imitate their parents when it came to romance, otherwise, her naïveté might lead to things of a far more disappointing nature.

"Dad says a lot of stuff. Sometimes life differ from his fairy tales endings, because it often takes a lot of work afterwards to keep it happy."

"Oh, is that why you needed to be cheered up? Because you was sad? Because there wasn't more ice-cream? Because Dad has eaten all the ice-cream!"

No, it was not because of the ice-cream.

It was a point no Housewife ever saw coming, and always struck at the worst possible time. Jaune had arrived home late, and found the table decked with living lights casting their flickering shadows on his favourite dishes. She had put in hours of effort to cock, to clean and arrange a play day for the kids and he had acted with the audacity to look confused. She had asked him how his day has been, and through other several casual but strained comments they had danced around the obvious, until she finally had asked him if he had forgotten. She knew all too well what the blank stare on his face meant, and for every weak guess he made, another strife of an unamused wrinkle appeared on her forehead. He asked if it was perhaps the anniversary for the day she retired as undefeated champion, or perhaps even her birthday. His suggestions only made it clear how little he could remember. She had listened to him, silently boiling. Realizing he had already forgotten his promise to sanctify the day they had said their vows, the day they had bounded as one, the happiest day of their lives!

After his babbling had finished, she had coldly reminded him. She had kept her emotions controlled, and it was not until later, when he had dared to imply if he still could have her for dessert, that she had removed her mask. She was happy that Nora had agreed on a sleepover for the kids, for Jaune's send off to the couch had been nothing but silent, and would probably have made an unfortunate impression on their young minds.

"No, don't worry, there's still some ice-cream in the fridge. Dad just forgot a very important date. We were going to celebrate the day we got married-"

"HE FORGOT YOUR WEDDING DAY! -You should have banished dad to the couch forever."

Forever? No, that would be very difficult. He would always come up with some scheme that would make that quite unlikely.

Like saying some random Saturday was the anniversary for their first school dance, and that it should be celebrated in proper style. She doubted strongly it was the anniversary, and even stronger that it was the exact date, but he insisted. He had never needed much reason to put on a dress anyway, as long as it earned her forgiveness and amused an audience. Perhaps there after all was a reason for their marriage, a reason behind those blue eyes and blond locks. Something that was worth keeping. Something that supported her, something she could rely on, something that woke her with gentle whispers when she overslept. Perhaps even something she loved.

"Are you not going to ask me if it made mom happy?"

"Ahh, but I already know it made mom very happy."

Her face shines with confident happiness, as she reveals the secret to understanding what happened between mom and dad.

"Because later that day, when it was night, after I had gone to bed. I suddenly felt thirsty, and since dad says I'm a big girl now, I don't need to bother you anymore, so I went down to the kitchen alone. Then, when I passed by the door to mom and dad's room I saw mom standing in the doorframe wearing a weird pyjamas that was all see-through and frilly, but then the door suddenly closed, and you began saying some weird noises I couldn't understand, but it sounded like you were both very happy."

Pyrrha had not blushed such a lush crimson shade of red since she was a schoolgirl herself. Her child's innocent eyes shifted quickly from happiness to curiosity as she noticed how mom's face became all bothered. Fearing a new line of questioning should begin, one that would take her to places she was not yet ready to explain her firstborn, Pyrrha only saw one way out.

"Okay, Now! 22-10. how would you begin to solve that?"


End file.
